Fortunes of War
by AragothwinElfBlade
Summary: Another Dannycentric interlude based on the Dropkick Murphys song 'Fortunes of War.' Some violences and references to disturbing imagery.


It was all Danny could do not to vomit as the fist hit his stomach again.

**Each town has its cliques,**

**Those who don't get along**

**And then there's towns I know**

**Where certain kids just don't belong**

**So know your rivals and watch your back**

**'cause no one's gonna be there**

**When the enemy attacks**

What on God's green earth had possessed him to come walking here after dark? Flack was going to kill him, if Stella didn't get to him first. "How's that feel pig," the girl taunted him. "Helping that headache of yours any?" Okay, so playing knight-in-shining-armor wasn't one of his brighter moves. Next time, he'd leave that to Mac. The ex-marine probably even knew how to ride.

Yet another blow to the gut made him grunt hard. This was getting old quick. Gathering himself up, he surged forward, throwing all his weight towards the ground while keeping his arms locked tight. The surprising move pulled Danny and the two punks holding him onto the cold cement. One of his attackers had landed on top of him, forcing the air out of his lungs in a rapid gust.

Rolling over, Danny kicked out frantically. He got lucky and slammed one of the larger teens backwards. The kid whined and grasped his crotch while his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Belligerent pleasure flickered in Danny's chest. A hammer hit his right temple. Wet concrete met soft skin and fragile bone. Then there was only black.

**When the justice eludes you**

**It's the fortunes of war**

**Wouldn't things be different**

**Had the tables been turned?**

**If the people won't protect you**

**You must fend for yourself**

**When the justice eludes you**

**It's the fortunes of war**

"Danny-boy," Carlotta called out to him. "Hey, Danny-boy," she ran to catch up with him. Back then she was happy, bouncy, and it annoyed Danny to no end. "You up for some b-ball. Vinnie says the back lot's open," her free hand patted his arm affectionately, "You can pitch, I'll hit."

Unable to resist Carlie's offer for long, Danny caved gracefully. "If you think it'll help your game." A happy squeal and enthusiastic hug was delivered with sincerest gratitude. Danny was secretly pleased by the response, he'd been nursing a pre-teen crush on her for several years.

Carlie tossed a ball up into the air and caught it as they walked along together. Her mouth move moved rapidly as she spilled out the inane chatter that made it easier to locate her than any GPS chip. So used to the constant yattering, Danny tuned it out as white noise. A smile and the occasional nod was the only sign he knew she was there at all. A puppy, his mom had promised him a puppy. White with black spots or a tan mongrel? She, it would be a she, needed a good name. A pretty, solid, Italian name. He was so focused on good names he didn't notice the chatter was gone.

"Carlie?" Danny looked around wildly, heaving sigh of relief as he saw in the street chasing after the baseball.

"Carlie," his call was exasperated, "come one." She waved acknowledgement and leaned down to pick up the ball.

They told him later he'd screamed her name. They told him later that she'd been killed instantly. They told him later that they would never be able to find the car that had hit her.

**You drove right over him**

**And then you sped away**

**How does it feel to kill**

**And know you didn't pay?**

Muffled words fell from swollen lips. Flack leaned closer to his friend, "Danny, Danny? Danny, can you hear me?"

"What's he saying?" Stella demanded imperiously. When the detective didn't respond she hit his shoulder none too gently with a closed fist. "What did he say?" she demanded again.

Holding up one finger to silence the woman, Flack listened intently. "Carlie," he finally decided, "he wants to know if we, um...have the..." He glanced up at Mac. "I'm not going to repeat that, but he's talking about some knucklehead in a car." His translation stopped as his head whipped around to stare at the battered man on the bed.

**So walk away**

**Even though a life is gone**

**Someday, you'll know the price**

**When God repays you for your wrongs.**

Danny reverently laid the picture on the table. Was it wrong to think she was pretty? After all, she was only eleven.

A cold cement block, like the ones in the alley. The aching burn of the vodka was his unspoken eulogy to a little girl and the little boy that died with her, two more civilian casualties in the war on the streets.

**When the justice eludes you**

**It's the fortunes of war**

**Wouldn't things be different**

**Had the tables been turned?**

**If the people won't protect you**

**You must fend for yourself**

**When the justice eludes you**

**It's the fortunes of war**

Author's Note: Okay, so, another Dropkick Murphy's inspired drabble. The song is Fortunes of War from the album 'Sing Loud, Sing Proud.' Carlie is some random figment of my imagination.


End file.
